dual personalities

Tag: spirituality

Oh me of little faith*

by chuckofish

Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you.

John 20:19

This Sunday’s Gospel reading was the scripture where Jesus does not bother to use the door which is locked anyway.  He just appears to 10 of the remaining 11 disciples. This is mentioned very casually. No one really makes a big deal of it. Because they don’t, one thinks it is probably just what happened. At least I think so.

The disciples, huddled in their locked room after everything that has happened, are both afraid and ashamed of their fear and their behavior in general.  We should try to remember the disciples when we are fearful and anxious. They were not paragons of strength. Far from it. Some of them were not even very smart. (Think of Peter.) They were just like us.  After this visit from Jesus, however, when he breathes on them and they receive the Holy Spirit, they seem to have gotten their collective acts together. It took a second visit for Thomas, because he missed the first and refused to believe without “touching and seeing”.

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Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

We all have our doubts, and that’s okay. Doubts, Frederick Buechner says, are “the ants in the pants of faith. They keep it awake and moving.”

Well, my mind wandered during the sermon on this scripture, but this is what I was thinking.

Meanwhile this weekend I enjoyed the spring weather by working in the yard. I also went on a birthday outing with my best Grace girlfriends. Our fearless leader and party planner Carla reasoned that, because we never have room for dessert when we go out to lunch, we should just go out for dessert. Brilliant! So we ventured downtown to a place famous for its ice cream concoctions and had sundaes. When was the last time you had a sundae? I cannot begin to remember when that was. It really was a treat.

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Art deco walls at the "Fountain"

Art Deco walls at the “Fountain”

We also went to the main branch of the downtown library which has been recently renovated.

Notice the 250th birthday cake in front and the spire barely visible behind of our Episcopal Cathedral

Notice the 250th birthday cake in front and the spire of our Episcopal Cathedral barely visible behind the library.

Intrepid explorers that we are, we had a super fun time.

I also re-read “The Snow Goose” a very short novella by Paul Gallico about  a lonely hunchbacked artist who participates in the evacuation of Dunkirk in 1940 and the snow goose that watches over him. It gave me chills.

the snow goose

If you are looking for something to pick up and read at one sitting, I highly recommend this marvelous book.

Have a good week!

* Nickle Creek

For, lo, the winter is past

by chuckofish

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land…

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Song of Solomon 2:12

Things are looking up in our flyover yard. And about time. Phew.

Same old story

by chuckofish

Jim Trainor on Easter…

“I believe the story. With my head, looking at the evidence and thinking logically as a person who was a research physicist for twenty-five years, I believe it. And after listening to the testimony of people – from beggars to kings — through all the ages who had concluded that the story is true, I believe it. And at the innermost levels of my heart, where the deepest truths reside but are not easily put into words, I believe it is true.

“And that is why I know that I will see my mother again someday. It’s not just wishful thinking, some little tale I’ve fooled myself with because I can’t face the cold hard facts of life. Yes, I will see Della Mae, and I am convinced that it will be a day of great victory and joy. St. Paul says that it will be like putting on a crown, and St. John says that it will be a time when every tear will be wiped away from my eyes. That’s what will happen someday to me. But what Jesus did affects me right here today also — I know that this Jesus who overcame death and the grave has promised not to leave me here twisting in the wind. He is with me every day, through his Spirit, to guide me, comfort me, embolden me, and use me for his glory and to serve his people, right here, right now.”

Read it all.

Re-blogged from TitusOne Nine, the weblog of the Rev. Canon Dr. Kendall Harmon

“It’s a strange, stubborn faith you keep. To believe that existence has a purpose! “*

by chuckofish

This morning I spent my hour “in the garden” waiting with Jesus–actually our little chapel in the near dark. There are supposed to be two people, but I was alone as was the women who kept the 4-5:00 a.m. watch before me. It is a little spooky being there alone, but I like it. I read the collects of Thomas Cranmer with meditations by my old friend Fred Barbee. Well, I think it is important to be aware of Good Friday and to try, at least in some small way, to keep it holy.

“So shall we join the disciples of our Lord, keeping faith in Him in spite of the crucifixion, and making ready, by our loyalty to Him in the days of His darkness, for the time when we shall enter into His triumph in the days of His light.”

– Phillips Brooks

Tomorrow daughter #1 is flying home (yay!) and we will spend Easter together, going to church and to brunch at my flyover faculty club and, of course, watching:

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I am such a nerd. But then you know that about me.

Not only will I be watching Ben-Hur this weekend, but I will be watching this version:

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Hope you all have a wonderful Easter, celebrating as you may.

P.S. Ganador del Premio Nobel Gabriel García Márquez muere a los 87 años. R.I.P.

“Life is not what one lived, but what one remembers and how one remembers it in order to recount it.”

— From his autobiography Living To Tell The Tale

* Quintus Arrius in Ben-Hur (1959)

O sacred head, sore wounded*

by chuckofish

And so we enter Holy Week.

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At our church we “re-enact” the Passion Drama during the service on Palm Sunday. Usually I am assigned to be a minor character like a serving girl (“You also were with Jesus the Galilean”) or the Centurion (“Truly this man was the Son of God!”), but this year I was not included at all. (My friend Carla and I joke about this because between the two of us we have been lay readers for nearly half a century, but we are no closer to being the Narrator or some named part than Joyce Meyer. Carla was a serving girl this year.)

I was a lector, however, and got to read a rousing lesson from Isaiah: “The Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near…” and so on. I do love Isaiah.

Sunday night I was planning to watch The Robe on Netflix Watch Instantly,  but we couldn’t get it to work, so I watched a large part of Franco Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth instead. I highly recommend it. It reflects, of course, the Roman side of the story and does a nice job of letting them off the hook. But Robert Powell is really great and so are the supporting players. Laurence Olivier as Nicodemus is one of my favorites.

During the week I will continue to read and watch appropriate fare, i.e. I abstained from watching Dancing With the Stars and their Disney-themed episode last night. Believe me it was not much of a sacrifice.

I have signed up to participate in the Good Friday Vigil following the Maundy Thursday service. I will be “waiting in the garden” from 5:00–6:00 a.m.

Window in Christ Episcopal Church, Poughkeepsie, NY

Window in Christ Episcopal Church, Poughkeepsie, NY

I have done this before and it is really quite a meaningful exercise. You are alone (with one other person) in the semi-dark of the spooky downstairs chapel with nothing to do but “stay awake for one hour” (see above window) and pray and meditate on Jesus and his sacrifice. This is right up my alley and better than the very public display of look-at-me-washing-someone’s-feet that is Maundy Thursday. To each his own.

Do you have any special plans for Holy Week?

* Traditional Hymn, attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux, trans. by Paul Gerhardt and James W. Alexander–We sang it on Palm Sunday which made me happy, especially my favorite verse:

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

Happy birthday, Lew Wallace

by chuckofish

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Lewis Wallace (April 10, 1827 – February 15, 1905) was an American lawyer, Union General in the Civil War, territorial governor and statesman, politician, and author. Wallace served as governor of the New Mexico Territory at the time of the Lincoln County War. He put the squeeze on Billy the Kid! 

son of indiana

To me, he is a fine example of the classic American male: soldier, statesman, spiritual guy, and author of a best-selling novel! And he was from Indiana. And he wrote this:

“Men speak of dreaming as if it were a phenomenon of night and sleep. They should know better. All results achieved by us are self-promised, and all self-promises are made in dreams awake. Dreaming is the relief of labor,the wine that sustains us in act. We learn to love labor, not for itself, but for the opportunity it furnishes for dreaming, which is the great under-monotone of real life, unheard, unnoticed, because of its constancy. Living is dreaming. Only in the graves are there no dreams.” 

Wallace started writing after the war, and while serving as governor, he completed his second novel. This one made him famous–Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1880). It became the best-selling American novel of the 19th century, surpassing Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. The book has never been out of print and has been adapted for film four times. 

In his autobiography he recounted a life-changing journey and conversation in 1875 with Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll, whom he met on a train. During the journey Ingersoll, a well-known agnostic, quizzed Wallace about the history and ideas of Christ. Wallace realized during the conversation how little he knew about Christianity. He wrote, “I was ashamed of myself, and make haste now to declare that the mortification of pride I then endured…ended in a resolution to study the whole matter.” Writing about Christianity helped him become clear about his own ideas and beliefs. Wallace developed the novel Ben-Hur from his studies. The historian Victor Davis Hanson has argued that the novel drew from Wallace’s life, particularly his experiences at Shiloh, and the damage it did to his reputation. The book’s main character, Judah Ben-Hur, accidentally causes injury to a high-ranking commander, for which he and his family suffer tribulations and calumny. He first seeks revenge and then redemption. (Wallace may have felt bitterly toward U.S. Grant, but I hardly think he modeled the character of Messala after him.) Well, Wallace may have worked through a few personal issues, but writing can do that.

After Wallace retired home to Indiana, he built himself a wonderful writing study. (I want one too!)

WallaceStudy

His home in Crawfordsville, Indiana is on my bucket list of places I want to visit. I have been to Crawfordsville  (known as the “Athens of Indiana”) and to Wabash College, but I have not been to his home (yet).

Wallace also liked to write under his favorite tree, known fondly as “the Ben-Hur Beech”.

Lew-writing-under-the-Ben-Hur-Beech

I am with you, Lew!

“I know what I should love to do – to build a study; to write, and to think of nothing else. I want to bury myself in a den of books. I want to saturate myself with the elements of which they are made, and breathe their atmosphere until I am of it. Not a bookworm, being which is to give off no utterances; but a man in the world of writing – one with a pen that shall stop men to listen to it, whether they wish to or not.” 
― Lew Wallace

By the way, it is that time of year again–almost time to watch the 1959 version of Ben-Hur! I can’t wait!  But I will wait for daughter #1 to come home and watch it with me Easter weekend!

Lazarus, come forth!

by chuckofish

Sunday’s gospel lesson was John 11:1-45 which is a long lesson, the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Our associate rector gave a really good sermon comparing the tomb of Lazarus to ourselves when we lose interest in life, when we are no longer fully alive. Our savior does not come into the tomb with us, but stands at the door and calls us to come out. I thought that he made a good point.

This made me think of the famous painting, the Light of the World by William Holman Hunt:

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This is an allegorical painting illustrating Revelation 3:20: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me”. The door in the painting has no handle, and can therefore be opened only from the inside, representing (according to Hunt) “the obstinately shut mind”.

Here are some artistic representations of Jesus calling Lazarus forth:

A 3rd century version

A 3rd century version

Giotto's version

Giotto’s version

Rembrandt's version

Rembrandt’s version

Carl Heinrich Bloch's version

Carl Heinrich Bloch’s version

Vincent Van Gogh's Lazarus

Vincent Van Gogh’s Lazarus

None of them do much for me. These images are, however, as Frederick Buechner says, “the wordless, eloquent, tongue-tied, clumsy, joyous and grieving cry of centuries” trying to depict the un-depictable.

But to get back to what I started to say…We must come forth and live our lives and do the work we are meant to do.

Robert Powell as Jesus calls Lazarus forth

Robert Powell as Jesus calls Lazarus forth

Thoughts? Discuss among yourselves.

Darlin’, pardon me

by chuckofish

…but do I look familiar?

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I recently found this photo of my big bro in his glory days. I am including it in today’s post for no particular reason except to say tempus fugit.

Here’s some food for thought from ol’ Fred B.

It is a moment of light surrounded on all sides by darkness and oblivion. In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another just like it and there will never be another just like it again. It is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious it is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.

“This is the day which the Lord has made,” says the 118th Psalm. “Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Or weep and be sad in it for that matter. The point is to see it for what it is because it will be gone before yo know it. If you waste it, it is your life that you’re wasting. If you look the other way, it may be the moment you’ve been waiting for always that you’re missing.

All other days have either disappeared into darkness and oblivion or not yet emerged from them. Today is the only day there is.

–Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark

Just as I am

by chuckofish

While organizing a whole mess of some old photos, I found this great one of my dual personality when she was on a dig in Jordan back in the 1980s. I think it was when she was getting a master’s in archaeology at Mizzou, before she went on to Yale, but if I am wrong she can set us straight. She was always much less timid than I, more like our mother. Being in the desert with a camel (and without a hairdryer) would not have fazed her much.

sarah and camel

Anyway, I spent my weekend per usual. I went to the book sale at the Unitarian Church, braving the Prius-filled parking lot in order to search through their treasure trove of books. Their thinking may be a little to the left of whoopee, but they are good readers.

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I went to three estate sales and got a few more books and then I came home and worked in the yard for awhile. It was a beautiful day–the sun was shining, the sky was blue and the daffodils were poking up.

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By Sunday, the temperature had plummeted, the wind was howling and it was sleeting, but I forged on to church nevertheless. I sat with my good friend Marty. It always amuses me to remember that her son was the coolest guy in school forty years ago and wouldn’t have known me from Doris Day, but it is proof positive that all things come to those who wait, if not in a semi-skewed fashion. It is the skewed part that is the point.

God does have a sense of humor and so should we.

Write deeply upon our minds, O Lord God, the lesson of thy holy Word, that only the pure in heart can see thee. Leave us not in the bondage of any sinful inclination. May we neither deceive ourselves with the thought that we have no sin, nor acquiesce idly in aught of which our conscience accuses us. Strengthen us by thy Holy Spirit to fight the good fight of faith, and grant that no day may pass without its victory; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

–C. J. Vaughan

Have a good Monday!

Food for thought

by chuckofish

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Today is the feast day of Saint Gregory (540–604) on the Episcopal liturgical calendar. Even though John Calvin was an “admirer” of Gregory and states in his Institutes that he was the last good pope (Book IV, chapter 7:4) and he is the patron saint of musicians, singers, students, and teachers, he doesn’t do much for me.

I had planned to blog about him, but instead I give you these words from Rob Bell, who is a contemporary American author and minister.

Being a Christian is not cutting yourself off from real life; it is entering into it more fully.

It is not failing to go deeper; it is going deeper than ever.

It is a journey into the heart of how things really are.

What is it that makes you feel alive? What is it that makes your soul soar?

Velvet Elvis

Thoughts? Discuss among yourselves.